


The Sleeper Must Awaken

by un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dune Setting, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canonical Character Death, Harrowing, M/M, Mage Rights, Tranquility Reference, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/pseuds/un-shit-yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House Amell and House Tevinter have been rivals for centuries. With House Amell gaining control of the planet Kirkwall, the only known location of lyrium in the universe, Garrett and his family leave the safety of Ferelden and  find themselves the target of a conspiracy that leads all the way to the heart of the empire. It falls to Garrett to save his family by joining a group of renegade mages in the deserts of Kirkwall, to develop his magic and his gift of prescience, and his rebellion will shake the foundations of the universe.</p><p>An AU set in the world of the <i>Dune</i> series by Frank Herbert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleeper Must Awaken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [DA Scifi AU Event ](http://dascifievent.tumblr.com/). There's plans to turn this into a full series, but the first chapter was written for the event.

  
_The beginning is the time for taking care that the balances are correct. To begin the story of Hawke, then, I take care to first place him in his time: born in the 57th year of the Padishah Empress, Elthina IV. And I take the most special care to locate Hawke in his proper place: the planet Kirkwall. Don’t be deceived by the fact that he was born on Ferelden and lived his first twenty years there. Kirkwall, the World of Chains, is forever his place._

_-from "Tale of the Champion" by Varric Tethras_  


* * *

  


In the week before their departure to Kirkwall, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an elegant woman came to visit the father of the mage, Garrett.

She entered through a side passage and was led to the family wing of the palace in the early morning, so she could glimpse Garrett as he slept and form her first opinions of him. He’d woken already at the soft sound of the door opening, but lay still with his breathing steady in deception.

“He’s far older than he should be for this,” she said coldly. “Your overprotective tendencies do him no favors.”

Malcolm answered, his voice quiet yet strong, “You’d rather he was a child, unaware of the danger he would face?” 

“Spare me the diatribe. You forget your place.” 

Garrett chanced a look through barely-open eyelids, and made out his father’s profile and a tall, feminine silhouette. 

“Never, Your Excellency.” He had to restrain the smile at Malcolm’s tone, despite his curiosity for why his father was being oddly subservient to this mystery woman. “I only think of my son.”

“If he’s as clever and powerful as you say, then he has nothing to fear.” Her head turned towards him, and his eyes closed quickly. “He’s awake and listening to us. Good. Ready yourself, boy, and meet me in your father’s study in thirty minutes. You’ll need all your wits to face your Harrowing.”

The door shut with a click, and Garrett heard the woman’s steps recede down the hall with his father’s heavier ones following. He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair, wondering: _What’s a Harrowing?_

Garrett dressed quickly in his formal clothing, supposing that the woman’s elevated status required more than a simple tunic and pants, buttoning the fitted jacket and tying the red sash of the Amell house around his waist. He combed his dark hair and hoped it would remain in place for the duration of the meeting, took a settling breath, and left his rooms.

This wing was silent during the early hours of the morning, but elsewhere in the palace, servants would be preparing for the day’s activities and the imminent move to Kirkwall. Garrett wondered if his mother knew about the visitor, or if his father had kept it secret even from her. He stood before the heavy door to the study soon enough and rapped quickly. It wasn’t his father’s voice that bade him to enter.

Malcolm stood next to a high-backed armchair, where the dignified woman sat, appraising Garrett with a calculating look. “Your Excellency, may I present my son, Garrett Amell. Garrett, this is Grand Enchantress Vivienne, the empress’ Truthsayer.”

It was impossible to tell her age, her skin flawless and her gaze hiding ancient wisdom. She wore a silver robe of glimmering fabric, cut stylishly, with a matching Orlesian headpiece. Her shrewd eyes were dark, ringed with blue to signify the years of taking lyrium to augment her powers. Around her neck was an amulet ringed with gold, the symbol of the Circle etched within it, and Garrett’s back straightened as he glanced towards his father. _Why have you brought the Circle here?_ , he wondered.

“Don’t look to him for answers, boy,” the woman scolded, and Garrett couldn’t resist a frown.

“I’m twenty, I’m hardly a boy.”

The Grand Enchantress raised an eyebrow, her voice amused. “You are untested, undisciplined, and not yet worthy of being called anything else. That may change.” She gestured dismissively to Malcolm. “You may go.”

The man looked between her and Garrett, brow furrowing. “I wished to…”

“No,” she said, but she’d lost her harshness, and even held a hint of sympathy in her tone. “You know how this is done, Malcolm.”

Garrett’s father nodded, and set a hand on his shoulder, either to reassure himself or Garrett, he wasn’t sure. “Do everything the Grand Enchantress tells you,” he said quietly. 

Garrett could do nothing but nod in reply, and his father exited the study, leaving him alone with the Grand Enchantress. The dark-skinned woman beckoned him closer, opening a small box at her side. “Kneel before me.”

But he burned with anger at her haughty demands, and refused. “I am the Duchess’ son, and my father is her honored husband. You have no right to speak to him like a servant.”

The Grand Enchantress laughed at that, and he was thrown off balance. “Malcolm _was_ my servant while he was an apprentice, and my pupil afterwards. Your title means nothing to me or the Circle, and your indignation is misplaced. I can speak to him, and you, how I wish.” She gestured sharply to her feet. “ _Kneel._ ”

Her voice carried magical weight, laced with a compulsion that had Garrett obeying before he’d realized it. She _was_ powerful, then, to be able to command with her voice; his father had told him stories of how Chantry-appointed mages from the Circle were only permitted to diplomatic meetings if they’d been dosed with magebane beforehand, to prevent either side from having an unfair advantage.

The Grand Enchantress withdrew a vial and a thin dagger from the box. “Has your father told you of his time in the Circle?”

Garrett nodded. “He was there all his life, until he left to marry my mother. He told me how mages are forced into Circle towers on every planet and kept watched by templars, and that if my sister and I hadn’t been born noble, we would have been sent to separate ones and unable to contact our family or each other ever again.”

“Hmph,” she replied. “Half-truths and hyperbole. I’d hoped you hadn’t inherited that rebellious streak, but alas.” She held the vial out for him to observe, the liquid a phosphorescent blue. “Obviously, you know what this is.”

“Lyrium,” he answered readily. “It amplifies our connection to the Fade.”

“Good. In the Circle, when a mage comes of age, they are given a test of their abilities by taking lyrium and journeying to the Fade. We call this a Harrowing. This a trial of cunning and willpower, and judges your resistance to temptation by demons. Surely your father told you of abominations?” When Garrett nodded, she continued. “As a mage, you must be constantly vigilant against the dangers of possession. You would have had this test years ago, but your father prevented it as long as he could. In order to join the Circle properly, and become a mage instead of an apprentice, you must complete this trial. Do you understand?”

Garrett looked at the lyrium vial and frowned. “But what does the test entail?”

“It is different for everyone. Once you’re in the Fade, your challenge will be revealed.”

“What if I fail?” he asked, and she held up the dagger in response. He frowned, but his apprehension turned to fear. “You would kill me?”

“Failure means possession, and we cannot suffer an abomination to live,” the Grand Enchantress replied. “If you refuse the Harrowing, the Circle has no choice but to make you Tranquil. Magic cannot go unchecked.”

Garrett held back a shudder at the thought of living as an emotionless, empty shell. Surely death was better than that. “I accept,” he said, and took the lyrium vial from her hand. 

The taste of it was bitter on his tongue, so strong he nearly gagged; he’d only sampled it before, never needed it to prolong his abilities since he’d never fought beyond training exercises, and he could immediately feel the Fade beckon him, the energy of the other plane bleeding through his senses. Vivienne cast a spell, Garrett distantly realizing that he’d need to be asleep to let his spirit visit the Fade, and then there was nothing.

When he opened his eyes he stood in the courtyard of his family’s palace, but it held an echoing, faintly eerie hum to the world around him. The normally vibrant garden was hazy and dull, covered in a faint aura of green as if looking through thick glass, and shapes flitted in the corners of his vision. The Fade was the realm of dreams, but this felt different; his movements were normal instead of sluggish, his senses active. 

Unsettled and anxious, he took a deep breath to calm himself, and mentally repeated the words of the Circle’s litany against fear, words that would strengthen his resolve. _I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer, fear is the little death that begets abomination. I will face my fear. I will allow it to pass over me and through me, and when it has gone I will turn my mind from it. When the fear has gone there will be nothing; only I will remain._

Garrett stepped forward, walking the stone path that led to the bronze fountain in the center of the courtyard. The water flowed from the decorative fixtures, but no sound accompanied it. As he bent to look in the water, he caught his hesitant reflection in the surface, with a dark shadow standing behind him. 

Whirling, he readied fire at his fingertips, but it fizzled out as he saw his father’s figure before him. He knew enough of the nature of demons to still be wary, certain that it couldn’t actually be Malcolm, so he said, “What do you want?”

“Such distrust already,” the demon replied, its voice like spoiled honey. “I just want to speak with you.”

“Unlikely.” Garrett looked the demon over, trying to determine what it was based on the form it had taken. “You’re Pride, aren’t you?”

The demon smirked, Malcolm’s features twisting uncannily, just past normal to disturbing. It paced the path around the fountain, wagging its finger slyly at Garrett. “You’re a smart one. Excelling at your studies and skilled at your magic, mindful of all that you’ve been taught. I wonder, though. Do you believe everything your father taught you?”

“He would have no reason to lie,” Garrett answered, watching the demon’s movements closely. “He wanted to protect us.”

“He said that, yes, but then he brings the Grand Enchantress here to test you? To throw you into the Fade with no warning, threatened with death if you fail?” It stopped pacing, leaning against the marble rim of the pool. “That does not sound like protection.”

“He is a mage, and still has to follow the Circle’s orders, even if he left them.”

“Why?” The demon gestured to the false scenery around them. “Malcolm ran from the Circle, married a duchess, and hid behind the Amell influence to escape them. He became nobility, and therefore immune to their scrutiny. He lives in luxury and wealth. He espouses the failings of the Chantry and the desire for mages to be free, and then makes you take part in the Circle’s games? You witnessed how they disrespected you and your father. Intolerable.”

“He had no choice, surely. If I’m not a member of the Circle, then I’m an apostate. I could never be heir to our house, or learn from the Circle Enchanters.” To be marked an apostate was to lose all standing as a citizen of the Imperium, hunted by Templars and brought back to the Circle, or gifted with either death or the brand. What else could have made Malcolm submit to Grand Enchantress Vivienne?

“It’s a wasted gesture. The Circle doesn’t hold the knowledge you seek, and you’ll dull of their teachings quickly. Already mastering the spells Malcolm taught you when you were a teenager, reading all you could from the records he’d smuggled, and you still weren’t appeased.” The demon stepped forward, looking at Garrett with a knowing smirk. “You’re a clever man. Clever enough to know when an opportunity presents itself.”

“If you think I’ll be swayed by power, you’re wrong.”

“Oh no, not power. Protection. Security. Safety for your family. What lengths would you go to to ensure no harm comes to them?”

“I would do anything for them,” Garrett said earnestly. “But I would do it on my own, without any demonic influence.“

The demon shifted, dark hair growing long and wavy as its figure shrunk, and turned to face him again. He flinched away from the twisted image of his sister, Bethany, her bright eyes and too-wide smile. “What about your sister, does she share your conviction? She has her own Harrowing to face. Your father no doubt plans to bring her to the Grand Enchantress after your trial. Do you think she’ll be able to resist?”

Bethany was strong, he knew it, but she was still only a young girl. Fear held him then, fear that she’d fall and be killed by the woman from the Circle. _I must not fear, fear is the mind-killer..._

Garrett grit his teeth. “Becoming an abomination won’t help her.”

“Abomination? No, that would go too far. Destroying you would hardly benefit me.” The demon waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t ask for much, just a peek into your life. A breath of air, a touch of skin against skin, the taste of wine. All of these are moments you would take for granted. Such a small price for the power to protect your family.”

“You think I’m so naive to believe that? You and your kind would never accept such a small token, you would eagerly take over my body while I lay trapped, helpless in my own mind.”

“For others, maybe,” the demon said. “But not you.” It stepped closer again, the face of Garrett’s sister contorted into an eager smile. “I’ve seen your dreams. I’ve watched you in the Fade while you slept, heard your fitful cries and caught every vision. I know what you’ve seen; blood, fire and death, for your family and all those around you.”

Garrett swallowed as the scene shifted from the tranquil courtyard to the steps of a stone palace that he’d seen many times in his dreams, littered with rubble and bodies and stained in blood. Smoke rose from the structure, blotting out all trace of the sky, and the acrid scent of death clung to the air. He suppressed a gag, shaken by how _vivid_ this version of his dream seemed.

“This is your future,” the demon said, and when Garrett turned to face it, he couldn’t hold back a gasp of surprise. The demon had taken the form of a tall, pale man in a cloak, light-copper hair tied back in a knot. It was a figure Garrett knew well from his dreams; the mysterious, handsome man without a name that had always looked at him lovingly. Here, though, there was only a coy smile and sharp eyes. “You have a destiny to fulfill. You’ve seen it, like you’ve seen this form, haven’t you?”

“No!” Garrett shouted. “This can’t come to pass, I won’t allow it.” He couldn’t bear to look at the corpses, knowing that he’d find his family or friends lying bloodied and lifeless. Every dream was different, but all ended in death. “You wouldn’t stop all of this chaos, you would revel in it!”

“My goals are bigger than wanton destruction!” the demon snapped. “Do you think you could reach greatness alone, without my power? Men have begged for my influence, to rise them from their destitute standings and let them claim what is rightfully theirs. Without me, your family will die, your friends will die, your house will fall, and you’ll be forced to watch as everything is stripped from you, piece by piece.” 

It gripped Garrett’s neck and hauled him closer with sudden strength, claws digging into his skin, a foul mimicry of the tender caress Garrett had shared in his dreams with the blond man. “Join with me. It is the only way you can escape from this,” it said, bronze eyes tinged with red, teeth sharp as it snarled at him.

The pain and the idea - escape - brought sudden clarity to Garrett’s thoughts, and he recalled one of Malcolm’s lessons. _"The Fade conjures itself from our dreams and our minds," his father had said. "What seems to be reality is only as real as your perception and your willpower. Do not lose hold of the idea that it is a place of half-truths and fears, and you will have the strength to survive it."_

His father’s words gave him focus, and Garrett held fast to the idea, the _reality_ that his magic still worked in this twisted space. He wrapped a hand around the wrist that held his neck and invoked fire. With a shout, the demon released him, and as he fell back, Garrett summoned a fireball that blasted the creature back into a stone pillar, then brought a wave of force down around the pillar to collapse it onto the demon.

It no longer looked like anything human, only a twisted pile of limbs amid the rubble, with sharp horns and burning mouths. “You will die alone, boy, pitied and broken, on a world made of ashes!” it hissed.

“At least I will die free,” Garrett replied. He brought another wave of energy down onto the creature, crushing it deeper into the earth as black ichor sprayed from its skin.

A horrible scream echoed through the empty air, and Garrett felt himself pulled back, as if an anchor tugged around his gut, dragging him roughly out of the Fade, and he opened his eyes with a gasping breath, panting on the floor of his father’s study.

Grand Enchantress Vivienne stood over him, and out of everything he’d experienced, it was her smile that suddenly seemed the most concerning. His feeling of unease passed quickly, and he disregarded her offered hand and got to his feet slowly, still slightly disoriented, but determined not to show weakness.

“Congratulations, Garrett Amell,” she said, after looking him over searchingly. “Your trial has passed, and I bestow the full rights of a Circle Mage to you.” She offered Garrett a small box; inside was a gold brooch, stamped with the seal of the Circle. “That signifies your status. Since you’re of noble blood, you have no tower to call home, but you will be allowed entry at any of them, and you’re able to request any materials or documents befitting your station through our channels.”

Garrett swallowed and nodded, offering her a slight bow. “Thank you, Grand Enchantress,” he said, because it seemed he should. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied benevolently. Her entire demeanor had changed; she no longer looked at Garrett like he was unworthy of sharing the same room.

“Will you be testing my sister as well?” he asked, the demon’s taunting still fresh in his mind. He wasn’t even sure if she’d tell the truth, but he had to know.

Vivienne made a noise of annoyance. “I would, were it not for your father’s insistence that only one of you be tested. Though I suppose I can understand his fear. With your family in such a state of upheaval, adding the stress of a Harrowing could have been destructive to you both.” She eyed him with interest. “It’s common for a senior enchanter to speak to a mage afterwards, to discuss what they’ve seen. I would be willing to hear your experience.”

Garrett frowned, debated claiming that he couldn’t remember, but she was a Truthsayer. “A pride demon taunted me, telling me that my family would die. I’ve seen it before in my dreams; blood and destruction. I don’t know what causes it, I just know that it’s a warning.”

“Do you dream of the same events every night?” she asked, voice carefully neutral.

“It changes. Sometimes I see my father’s body lying on the steps of Amell Keep in Kirkwall. I’ve never seen it, other than images, but I know that’s where I am. And…” He was about to tell her about the blond man, but stopped himself, somehow fiercely protective of the mysterious person. “...sometimes it’s my brother on the steps, or my sister. There’s always death. I don’t know if I’m dreaming of the future, or...”

The Grand Enchantress gave a light shrug, and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s rare to have the same dreams, since the Fade is a shifting place, but it isn’t unheard of. In all the centuries of the Circles, no mage has ever had clairvoyance, despite the _many_ people who have insisted they do. You are no different.” Evidently assuming that their conversation was over, Vivienne looked to the door and called, “Malcolm!”

It opened hesitantly, Garrett’s father keeping a tense expression until he lifted his eyes to see his son standing whole before him, and Garrett could see the relief wash over the man’s face. “Your son is now a member of the Circle. Let us hope he shows more affinity for our order than you,” Vivienne said wryly, then nodded curtly to Garrett. “You are excused, Mage.”

He offered both her and his father a slight bow, using propriety to acknowledge the two as equal to each other as a last measure of defiance, and exited.

* * *

Hours later, Garrett rested in the library, the formal clothing cast aside for comfort, idly scanning a report on the mage revolt in Kirkwall. He’d read the words a dozen times already, but he needed something to fixate on that wasn’t his experience with his Harrowing, and reminding himself of the immediate future did more to help him than dwelling on what may or may not occur.

The Circle Tower in Kirkwall had fallen months ago. The mages had banded together and taken up arms against the templars stationed there, killing most of them before physically tearing the tower down around the rest of the inhabitants, then fleeing into the southern desert. The Imperial Court Magician had been killed, the position moving to her daughter, and the Chantry had immediately gone to the Empress for assistance in hunting down the rebel mages. Two legions of Templars, lead in person by Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard, had marched on the planet, but were unsuccessful in finding the missing rebels; the open desert was vast, spotted with mountains, and populated with giant wyrms that could bring down a military transport in seconds. 

With the death of Garrett’s uncle Gamlen Amell, the planet of Kirkwall had been granted to his mother and their family. Gamlen hadn’t kept adequate watch over the situation in the Tower or with lyrium production, and Empress Elthina IV had gifted the family holdings back to Leandra as a sign of goodwill, provided that lyrium production would resume. Handling the mage rebellion would be left to the watchful eye of the knight-commander, and the empress had been clear in her reassurances that the Amell family would not be bothered by Templar activity. 

He wasn’t afraid of the templars with his status as a noble, but he’d heard about their methods and the stories from his father; to say they made him uneasy was an understatement. The entire situation seemed very convenient. The empress had been far less forgiving when Malcolm had fled the tower and married Leandra, protecting himself from Templar retribution with their union and Leandra’s pregnancy. Out of shame, Garrett’s grandfather had his daughter and her apostate husband moved out of sight to the backwater world of Ferelden. But now, with the chaos in Kirkwall, Leandra was suddenly back in the Imperial court’s good graces.

The ancient feud with House Tevinter couldn’t be forgotten, either. Baron Danarius Tevinter had been in line next to receive the planet as his holding, but the empress had instead gifted it to the disgraced daughter of his rival. There had been plenty of threats and shouting in the Imperial court over what the Baron had deemed a “humiliation” to his house, but the last few weeks had been quiet. Garrett doubted that Tevinter would give up such a wealthy claim so easily; it was a well known saying that whoever controlled the lyrium controlled the universe.

All of this and more weighed on Garrett’s mind, the sins of his father and the threat of future peril. The mood in Kirkwall City was tense, and this was where Garrett and his family would soon call their home, a much different place than the calm, temperate Ferelden that he was used to. 

Footsteps shook him from his thoughts, and he put away his screen. A man only a few years older than Garrett entered the library, his brunet hair swept back from his high forehead to draw notice to the small diamond tattoo on his brow. Dr. Sebastian Vael was the Chantry-trained doctor of the Amell family, and the tattoo symbolized his loyalty to his station and his conditioning against taking a human life. It was the highest sign of trust in the Imperium.

“Your father asked me to check on you,” Sebastian said. “He said you’d had quite a morning.”

“You could say that,” Garrett replied with a sigh. “I feel fine, just a bit weary.”

The other man held up a small scanning device. “A small price to pay for easing your father’s mind.”

Garrett nodded and stood from the couch, cracking his neck, and Sebastian approached, gently taking his arm and resting the scanner against it. “What do you know about Kirkwall?” he asked.

“Only that the deserts along the equator are dangerous with wyrms, and the incident with the mage rebellion. Also that it’s the source for lyrium, of course.” The man studied the display as it gave him Garrett’s vitals. “It’s a dangerous place.”

“I don’t think my mother is worried enough,” Garrett admitted. “She’s glad to regain her standing in the Imperial court and her ancestral home, but…”

“...but there’s more at stake than your family’s name, yes.” Sebastian frowned, removing the scanner. “Leandra keeps much of her worries for your father’s ear, I believe. She’s a smart woman, and she cares for you and your siblings. She’s no doubt aware of the dangers.”

Garrett nodded. “You’re right. Perhaps I’m just being dramatic.”

“It never hurts to be cautious,” Sebastian replied. He dropped Garrett’s gaze suddenly, then adopted a smile. “You’re in perfect health. Your father will be pleased.”

 _He knows something. But it couldn’t be that bad, his Chantry conditioning is too strong to hide something terrible from us._ “Good,” he replied, then chided himself for his suspicions. _You’re too focused on your dreams, you’re seeing fears where they don’t belong._ Garrett’s attention returned to the door, knowing who was approaching by the sound of his boots before he turned the corner, and he was immediately cheered. 

Varric Tethras was a jack of all trades, and one of Garrett’s closest friends. He used to be a merchant in the Banking Guild before joining House Amell, and worked as both a spymaster and adviser to Malcolm and Leandra. He carried an ancient repeating crossbow on his back that he’d affectionately named Bianca, and could tell a story that might even fool a Truthsayer. Garrett wondered how the Grand Enchantress would have reacted to the dwarf, and smirked at the imagined affront.

“I know that look,” Varric said, wagging a finger. “I’m the butt of a joke again, aren’t I?”

“Of course not,” Garrett replied. “Just imagining how well you’d be able to woo the empress’ Truthsayer.”

The dwarf put a hand to his heart. “Even I have my limits, kid. I know when to ante and when to fold, and that woman would never let herself be outplayed.”

Sebastian looked between them with amusement. “I think I’ll leave you two to chat and give your father my results.”

“Take care, Doc,” Varric said, slinging Bianca off his shoulder and sitting in an armchair. “So what was all that about, anyway?”

Garrett sat opposite him, able to show his frustrations now that it was just the two of them. “Had my Harrowing with Grand Enchantress Vivienne. Apparently my father couldn’t escape the Circle completely, after all.” 

“I’ve heard rumors that they make mages go through some sort of trial,” Varric muttered. “Mostly wild speculation, of course.”

“Well, I faced a demon in the Fade and lived. I suppose I’m a proper mage now.” He idly picked at the hem of his tunic. “They wanted to test Bethany, but Father wouldn’t let them yet. I don’t want her to ever go through that.”

“You might not have a choice,” the dwarf said. 

“I’ve been hearing that a lot, lately. Bethany doesn’t have a choice with her Harrowing, my father doesn’t have a choice with bowing to the Circle, and my family doesn’t have a choice in moving to Kirkwall.” Garrett sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “We don’t have a say in any of it, and there’s something wrong with it. You see it, don’t you?”

Varric nodded, steepling his fingers together. “Yeah, I do. It’s why I’m going to keep a close eye on you and your siblings once we get to the World of Chains. With a name like that, nothing’s going to go well.”

“If it’s a trap, why are we going?” Garrett asked quietly.

“Because your mother really _doesn’t_ have a choice, if she wants to keep House Amell alive. But she’s got your father and you to back her up, along with me, Doc, and Broody, and all the others in the house staff. None of us are going into this unaware, save maybe your brother, but he’s unaware of most things.” Varric adopted a sardonic grin. “But you don’t have to worry for now, they’re not gonna act right away, it’d be too obvious.”

“Which ‘they’?”

“Any of ‘em. We’ll take it a day at a time. First step to avoiding a trap is knowing that it’s there, kid. Then you just have to go around it.”

Garrett scoffed, but the dwarf’s cynical optimism helped put him at ease. “You always know what to say, Varric.”

“Let’s hope my gift for words keeps helping, then. But if it doesn’t, I’ve got Bianca for a reason.” He patted the crossbow gently.

The man from Garrett’s dreams came to mind, and he smiled jokingly. “I hope that someday, I too can experience such a perfect love.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” Varric replied with a laugh.


End file.
